By Rebecca Hastings

The day was wide open before us. We weren’t tethered to packing lunches and getting to the bus stop. No longer slaves to homework calendars and after-school activities. It’s summer. We should celebrate! My mind began racing with ideas.

We could go to that new science museum. Or the movies. No, save those for a rainy day. Hmmm … the beach? The park? A picnic at the park followed by ice cream at the beach? There was no shortage of possibilities.

My kids appeared relaxed, basking in their new-found freedom. I, on the other hand, was busy figuring out how to make the first day of summer magical. And then I tripped over the laundry pile on my way to feed the dogs.

Looking around I saw all the things that still had to be done. Beds to be made, dirty dishes, work email notifications on my phone. School may have ended, but real life hadn’t. There was a tug-of-war in my head between the magic I expected to create and the real-life responsibilities.

I’d developed an expectation that life was a great big Instagram feed of who I am, but also who I want to be, who I think others want me to be, and who I can never be. With all the headlines telling me how to “Create a Magical Summer,” I began running faster on a hamster wheel demanding perfect memories for my kids.

But just like I am never going to be 5 foot 8 and size 2 (no matter how high the heels and how tight the Spanx), I can’t entertain my kids 24/7. Even the thought is exhausting.

Kids need to see that there is balance between fun and normal, or better yet, a melding of the two. If I want them to grow up to be more than consumers of this beautiful world, I need to give them the chance to live in and contribute to it. And this means doing things that don’t make the Instagram feed.

I look around and see them. One is plugged into an audiobook, one is playing a video game, and one headed outside to scooter. They are content for the moment, so I permit myself to be content, too. 

The day is just a day, but magical simply because it exists. There will be laundry to fold, and they will help. But if we do that right after lunch we can grab an ice cream and head to the park. We can find moments of magic in ordinary hours.

It’s not my job to entertain my kids. And they shouldn’t be entertained all day anyway. We can, however, find ways to have fun in real life. To have beach days and home days. To have chore times and break times. To do nothing and to do something amazing. 

Rebecca is a published author and former teacher passionate about authenticity, faith, and family. Connect with her at RebeccaHastings.net and on Instagram.